TITLE: Music Of Champions
AUTHOR: Lisa
EMAIL: Saturn_girl19@yahoo.com
CATEGORY: M/S Angst and Romance RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE: Please just let me know.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine. That's all there is to it.
SUMMARY: Scully's Dreams.
I started having dreams of him from the first day of our acquaintance, but they were fleeting dreams that would race under my eyelids for mere seconds and disappear. I would awaken, and shake the visions from my mind, feeling guilty for the unspeakable crime my subconscious had created.
I suppose it started to get bad after he kissed me in the hospital waiting room. Having his warm, too-soft-to-be-human lips against mine was just too much. Now these dreams last longer. They are definitely not fleeting anymore. They are unbridled images that play like violins in my wanton sleep. They are gospel hymns that tell of the love I have yet to admit to either of us.
We are in the office, or on his couch, and he kisses me, soft at first, but quickly growing in intensity. He reaches into my mouth, and pushes so hard, pushes for the secrets I haven't let go of yet, pushes into hidden scars of hidden wounds.
The violins increase their pitch, and he grinds into me. Fast but steady, making me want to scream like Tarzan's Jane, pound my fists against my chest in realization of the conquering, and my wounds are healed. They melt like ice, turn into the water of my tears, and I am finally able to sing.
And he sings. Guttural noises rise from his throat, and float into my ear, humming comfort to the little girl hidden beneath the facade of a woman that isn't really me.
He rips off my clothes, like the crazed maniac and passionate beast I know him to be, and glides tiny touches of air along my expectant body. His fingers move like drunken butterflies along my lips, my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, reaching down into the depths of me that before now, have been too afraid to speak. Our merged libidos create the music of champions, as we race to the finish line together.
The race leaves me exhausted. It drains me of all sense and logic, leaving me a puddle of longing and silk in the middle of my bed. I awake to realize, that no matter how real it may have appeared, it was only a dream, an intangible taunting beast. It laughs in my face every time I run from the real thing. I know that the real thing is there for my taking. I know he is waiting for me. I know I must have the courage to face him. But that courage never fails to elude me.
Sometimes I wish I could ride on the hands of time, and travel back to that hospital waiting room. Sometimes I wish I could be the one to taunt my dreams, and take that final plunge to happiness. But I did not have the courage. It once again eluded me. He was there with open arms, and I ran.
But the desire for him is floating now, whereas before, it hadn't lifted itself from the ground. I am scared, but I am in love, and I only hope I can one day dance to the music of champions.
EMAIL: Saturn_girl19@yahoo.com
CATEGORY: M/S Angst and Romance RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE: Please just let me know.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine. That's all there is to it.
SUMMARY: Scully's Dreams.
I started having dreams of him from the first day of our acquaintance, but they were fleeting dreams that would race under my eyelids for mere seconds and disappear. I would awaken, and shake the visions from my mind, feeling guilty for the unspeakable crime my subconscious had created.
I suppose it started to get bad after he kissed me in the hospital waiting room. Having his warm, too-soft-to-be-human lips against mine was just too much. Now these dreams last longer. They are definitely not fleeting anymore. They are unbridled images that play like violins in my wanton sleep. They are gospel hymns that tell of the love I have yet to admit to either of us.
We are in the office, or on his couch, and he kisses me, soft at first, but quickly growing in intensity. He reaches into my mouth, and pushes so hard, pushes for the secrets I haven't let go of yet, pushes into hidden scars of hidden wounds.
The violins increase their pitch, and he grinds into me. Fast but steady, making me want to scream like Tarzan's Jane, pound my fists against my chest in realization of the conquering, and my wounds are healed. They melt like ice, turn into the water of my tears, and I am finally able to sing.
And he sings. Guttural noises rise from his throat, and float into my ear, humming comfort to the little girl hidden beneath the facade of a woman that isn't really me.
He rips off my clothes, like the crazed maniac and passionate beast I know him to be, and glides tiny touches of air along my expectant body. His fingers move like drunken butterflies along my lips, my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, reaching down into the depths of me that before now, have been too afraid to speak. Our merged libidos create the music of champions, as we race to the finish line together.
The race leaves me exhausted. It drains me of all sense and logic, leaving me a puddle of longing and silk in the middle of my bed. I awake to realize, that no matter how real it may have appeared, it was only a dream, an intangible taunting beast. It laughs in my face every time I run from the real thing. I know that the real thing is there for my taking. I know he is waiting for me. I know I must have the courage to face him. But that courage never fails to elude me.
Sometimes I wish I could ride on the hands of time, and travel back to that hospital waiting room. Sometimes I wish I could be the one to taunt my dreams, and take that final plunge to happiness. But I did not have the courage. It once again eluded me. He was there with open arms, and I ran.
But the desire for him is floating now, whereas before, it hadn't lifted itself from the ground. I am scared, but I am in love, and I only hope I can one day dance to the music of champions.